Movie review: Keener fights to save her 'Little Pink House'

Friday

May 4, 2018 at 4:35 AM

By Al Alexander/For the Patriot Ledger

In 1997, the seaside Connecticut city of New London was limp, unable to get its employment levels up. So who better to rectify that impotency than Pfizer Pharmaceutical and its new magic pill, Viagra? Spurred on by soon-to-be-jailed Gov. John Rowland, the makers of the “little blue pill” opted to relocate its factory and headquarters to the city’s Fort Trumbull area, provided the company receive huge tax breaks (paying 20 cents on the dollar) and an option to redevelop the abutting blue-collar neighborhood by erecting high-priced condos and a luxury hotel. One problem: The po’ folks whose homes were in the way, didn’t wanna sell.

That’s the set-up for writer-director Courtney Moorehead Balaker’s crowd-pleasing, anger-inducing “Little Pink House,” a fact-based story of government bullying that makes you want to turn all politicians into piñatas. No room for evenhandedness here; nor should there be. What Rowland (Aaron Douglas) and his cronies at the New London Development Corporation did to vox populi crusader Susette Kelo (perfectly cast Catherine Keener) and her Fort Trumbull neighbors was reprehensible; an act so egregious 43 states have since passed laws to prohibit the eminent domain shenanigans Pfizer and its political abettors pulled along the river Thames.

You wouldn’t think the last clause of the Fifth Amendment would make a compelling foundation for a movie, but here it does, largely because Donald Trump is one of the law’s staunchest supporters, as are all developers sharing the belief that the moneyed hold sway over the indigent when it comes to getting what they want. Your casa is their casa, if they so deem. And they have an infamous 2005 Supreme Court ruling to back them up. But I get ahead of myself.

Let’s get back to the beginning. It’s 1997, and Kelo -- an EMT studying to be a nurse -- is walking out on her drunken, louse of a spouse to make it on her own. She finds solace in the form of a shabby shack on the banks of the Thames. She buys it, refurbishes it and paints it an inviting shade of pink. The only thing that could add to her bliss is a hunky antiques dealer in the form of Callum Keith Rennie’s Tim. But just as he’s about to convince the recent divorcee to give love another chance, a perky, unctuous realtor knocks on her door offering $68,000 for her abode. Susette says no thanks. And a fight that will extend all the way to our most hallowed halls of justice is under way.

In the government’s corner is Kellyanne Conway-clone Charlotte Wells (a terrific Jeanne Tripplehorn), the governor’s pick to lead the NLDC. She has the smile of a Cheshire cat and the claws of a rampaging tiger. She’s so alpha, even the governor quakes in her presence. On the opposite side of the ring stand the equally stubborn Kelo and her pro bono attorneys from the non-profit Institute for Justice, led by a methodical and pragmatic Scott Bullock (Giacomo Baessato), ESQ.

Cue the predictable scenes of volatile town hall meetings, oodles of condescension and a wide array of emotional setbacks and triumphs. The film also bares its fair share of sentimentality and pathos. Think of it as a Lifetime production. In fact, the entire movie has the feel of a social-cause-of-the-week TV offering. What holds it together is Keener’s soulful performance. She is sensational in full glam-down mode. But it’s more than just makeup she sheds; so too is any hint of pretension or sanctity. Her Susette is so real, so normal you never think of it as acting. She’s not trying to win your sympathy; she’s trying to raise your ire. And, boy, does she.

You get so riled up, you want desperately to lash out and scream, “Vote them out!,” a feeling that only gains intensity when you reach the story’s head-slapping finale. It’s powerful, and if you’re wise, you’ll avoid knowing beforehand how Susette’s lawsuit played out. Still, you wish Balaker had been more concerned about creating drama and conflict than staying faithful to Jeff Benedict’s 2009 book, “Little Pink House: A True Story of Defiance and Courage.” Sure, she largely sticks to the facts, making alterations only when legalities demand. But the result is too often inert, allowing her film to get lost in the details.

Ultimately, Balaker leaves us plenty to think about, like what’s more important: creating jobs or saving people’s homes from being taken against the owner’s will? And more importantly, should corporations be included in a constitutional amendment that limits eminent domain to projects serving the public good, like roads, hospitals and parks? Do new jobs meet that criterion? The answers Balaker proffers are not as black and white as you’d expect. The movie may be about the fate of a pink house, but what you’re left with is a startling amount of gray.